


Hot and Cold

by deepspaceprincess



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Consensual Somnophilia, Dirty Talk, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of attempted suicide, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Pre-Avengers (2012), medication mention, not one ounce of internalized homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:12:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7552612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepspaceprincess/pseuds/deepspaceprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky woke up on December 16, 1991, twenty years later, he helped Steve come home from the ice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching Civil War and thought, "What would happen if Bucky had come to after trying to kill Howard and Maria?", then I threw in a lot of pining and some angst and here we are!
> 
> Unbeta'd save for me reading it a couple of times and continuing to miss mistakes.   
> So sorry about that.
> 
> Check it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize about the formatting, I tried to space out the paragraphs but the site just isn't letting me do it.

  Bucky had been dreaming, a peaceful, fuzzy, pleasant sort of dream that slipped through the fingers of his memory as soon as he was jarred from sleep. He couldn't place what exactly had woken him from his dream, until his cell phone started to go off for what he assumed was at least the second time. The phone played some unnecessarily cheering song that Tony had programmed and Bucky didn't even try to guess what it was as he slid to answer the call.

  
   “This is Barnes.” he answered, trying to work some moisture back into his dry mouth.  
   “I've called you four times.” came Maria Hill's annoyed remark.  
   “Yeah, well, it's,” he paused to check the time, “Three in the morning, so that's not surprising.”  
   “I thought you slept light?”

  
   “On missions I do, at home safe in my ridiculously secure apartment, I sleep like the dead. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he prompted, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep in hopes of chasing the dream he forgot.  
   “We need you to come in.”  
   “Right now?”  
   “Right now Barnes.”  
   “This can't wait a couple more hours?”  
   “James,” she said, her voice heavy with words she wouldn't say over the phone, making Bucky pause, “Just get here, please.”

  
   It was the please that rocked Bucky to his core, because Maria didn't say please, she instructed and she insisted, but she didn't ask nicely and it scared him more than he would like to admit.

  
   “On the way.” he told her, already rolling out of bed.

   Bucky lived in Brooklyn, because of course he did. Tony had teased him a little relentlessly about it when he had finally admitted to wanting to move out of the SHIELD barracks and into his own place. The teasing had been pointless, because Tony had also helped Bucky find a good place and to set up scads of security in the small two bedroom he had managed in DUMBO. It was more than he ever would have been able to afford in his past life and he probably would have been more comfortable back in Red Hook or Bed-Stuy, but Tony was fronting the rent in his misconstrued sense of owing Bucky something. Bucky wasn't one to argue with a billionaire if he wanted to pay the couple thousand a month to keep him close enough to Manhattan that it was only a short ride to headquarters.

  
   He had gotten the two bedroom without really thinking, a natural reaction to finding a place, so he had filled the second room with shelves and books and other ways to forget how alone he was most nights, even if he had guests over all the time.

   Maria was in the lobby when Bucky arrived, she looked tired, not even dressed in uniform; her face, as usual, gave nothing away. They silently went to the elevators that would take them down into the bowels of the facility, rather than up to the dummy offices.

   
   “You gonna tell me what's goin' on?” he asked as they headed down, his ears popping slightly with the pressure change.  
  “I'm not really sure how to phrase it.” she sighed, scrubbing her hand down her face.  
  “So just say it, you ever know me to beat around the bush?”

  
   The elevator signaled their arrival, but when they stepped out into the empty hallway, Maria stopped him with a hand on his left shoulder (and he was still a little shocked every time someone touched his metal arm with no hesitation).

  
   “They found Captain Rogers.” she said, plain and simple, like maybe he had been lost for a week rather than seventy years. 

  
   Bucky stepped back to the wall, unsure if his legs were going to stay steady and he sucked in a shaky breath. He decided not to fight it and let himself slide down the wall to his ass, elbows resting on his knees as he put his head in his hands.

  
   This was a moment in his life he never expected to be facing, it drained him almost as much as when he had come to, his left hand wrapped around Howard Stark's throat. Bucky thought he was done with life shattering pieces of time. He had come back from brainwashing and recovered, rebuilt, and thought that was that.  
Bucky had resolved himself to Steve being lost forever, he was content with his best friend's empty grave. He didn't want to face a ceremony, a funeral that he had been all too glad to have missed.

  
  But now...

   “Where?” he managed, finally finding his way around the lump in his throat.  
   “Arctic Circle, a research team accidentally came upon him.” she answered, her voice soft in a way Bucky had never heard, “He was discovered a couple of days ago actually, but a decision was made to hold off on telling you until we knew he would pull through.”

   A beat of time went by as Bucky's brain processed those words, merely a second or two really, but it felt like hours until his heart shot into his throat. He looked up at Maria from his spot on the floor, tears burning at his eyes. He had to have heard her wrong.

  
   “What?” he croaked.

  
   “James, he's, alive. The doctors all have their theories, but Captain Rogers was found alive, somehow preserved in the ice. He hasn't... woken up yet, but the doctors are all sure he will. They still have him under sedation because they want to control his return to consciousness.” she explained, leaning against the wall opposite of Bucky. “They think it'd be best if you were there when he does come to.”

   Bucky remembers vividly each time he had woken up after initially “coming in from the cold”, as Tony called it. The first time was the worst of them all, he had rode off to the closest phone and called for help for the two people he had tried to kill before disappearing. He quickly learned that he wasn't going to be able to save himself and had resigned to finding Carter.

  
   It had been a flurry from there, they had tried and failed to get out of his head the words that would turn him back to Hydra, so he had gone under again. SHIELD had woken him every year for a few days, to update him on their research and keep him in the loop of the changing times, but it wasn't until two-thousand and four that they were finally able to pull him out for good.

  
   Tony didn't consider the fact that he had figured out how to get the words out of Bucky's head enough of a thanks for getting help to his parents. The two had been at weird, friendly odds ever since as to who owed who what (because even if Bucky did save Howard and Maria he had been the one to initially hurt them). Bucky's life had been as normal as it could from there, considering the fact that he was still working for SHIELD to bring down Hydra. He was close with Tony for obvious reasons, the two of them holding each other together through Bucky's slow recovery and the much later passing of Tony's parents (car accident, ironically). Bucky had grown content with his new life, his second chance to prove to himself that he was worth the memory of Steve.

   And now that was all thrown around, as once again, his life proved it couldn't just keep on keeping on.


	2. Chapter 2

   The soft lighting from above made Steve's face glow in an ethereal sort of way, he looked peaceful, like he was in a natural sleep instead of a medically induced one. Bucky had thought maybe he would look different for some reason, but he looked just as full and healthy as the last time he had seen Steve (arm stretched out, screaming for Bucky as he slipped from the train into the abyss). He pushed the thought from his head, none of that mattered anymore, it was the past and it led them to this moment, so he found it hard to hate that any of it had happened.

  
   There were doctors all over, though he had been told that once they had taken Steve off sedation that they would leave. A lot of discussion had been put into the best way to wake him up and tell him where and when he was. The conclusion had been that Bucky should do it and even though that was a rough thing to have to do, he was glad they picked him. At least Steve would have Bucky here to help him wake up, even if Bucky's own experience with coming off a freeze was extremely different.

   “It'll take him a little while once we stop the medication. There are techs and doctors who will monitor his return. Try to make sure he doesn't jar anything too much, we want to keep the EEG on as his comes to, make sure his brain is operating at a normal capacity.” an older doctor explained as one of the nurses (?) pressed a few buttons on the IV pump.  
   “Is there an chance of adverse reactions to him waking up?” Bucky asked.  
   “He was already starting to come around when we took him off the ice, we put him under to slowly let his body come back to a normal temperature so as to not shock any systems. So he should be fine. At this point his organs are all operating normally, the only thing will be his reaction to where he is. The hope is that your presence will help to dilute that shock.”

  
   Bucky, unable to answer, just nodded from his seat next to Steve's bed. He had so far been too afraid to touch Steve, like if he did Bucky would wake from the dream he was currently in. It was hard not to wonder if he were still under control of Hydra and this was all some illusion that had thrust upon him (which had been a difficult thought to get past multiple times during his recovery). Finally, when the doctors and other staff all left (only to watch from a camera no doubt) Bucky slid his flesh had into Steve's. He did his best to obstruct what could be seen of his metal hand, wanting to ease Steve into the new reality he was about to wake up in.

   It was about thirty minutes before Steve first showed signs of waking up, slowly his body started to twitch and move like it would in natural sleep. After forty minutes his head lulled to the right, facing Bucky completely. They must have had him under something heavy for it to take his body this long to work it from his system.  
An hour after they stopped the medication Steve's hand twitched in Bucky's; he gave Steve's hand a light squeeze and had to hold back a sob when Steve repeated the gesture (because he would n't believe Steve was alive until he saw those beautiful blue eyes again). It was like a scene from a movie, Steve's eyelids fluttered softly before his eyes opened fully, locking onto Bucky immediately (and Bucky was worried, because he looked nothing like before his fall, his hair was long now and he knew just how much muscle he had gained as the Winter Solider). Steve stared at him for a full ten seconds before his eyebrows pulled down in confusion and he smacked his lips to wet his undoubtedly dry mouth.

  
   “Bucky?” he asked, his voice cracked with disuse.  
   “Yeah pal, it's me.” he said quietly, too scared to speak loudly and break the moment.

  
    He did however, reach for the water that was left for Steve, and helped him drink from it. After Steve had settled back against the bed he looked around the room. It had been mostly stripped of machinery, only what was needed was in the room to keep the shock value down. Steve's eyebrows stayed screwed down in confusion as he looked around quietly, before reaching tentatively up to his head.

  
   “Careful Steve.” Bucky warned as his fingers brushed the EEG leads.  
   “Bucky, what's going on?” he finally asked, looking back at him with those too bright blue eyes.

  
   Bucky swallowed nervously, having turned around in his head the best way to tell Steve, he had worked out different scenes, different conversations, different reactions. Steve seemed to be on the calm route right now, which was good.

  
   “You're in a hospital room Stevie,” he started, squeezing Steve's hand again, getting a squeeze in return once more.  
   “I gathered that, is this someplace of Howard's?” he asked, giving a pointed look to the IV stand and vitals monitor to his left. “What happened?” he barreled on, not waiting for an answer. “The last thing I remember is-”

  
   He stopped short, like maybe he questioned his memory (which Bucky understood all too well) and looked around the room once more before his eyes fell again to Bucky, taking him in slowly. Bucky could see the realization dawn on Steve's face as everything came back to him, his eyes grew comically in size.

  
   “You're alive.” he whispered, tears visible in his eyes suddenly, “You fell, but you're, here?”  
   “I'm alive Stevie. And so are you.”  
   “I put the Valkyrie down. I, I did put the Valkyrie down right?” he asked, panic rising in his voice.  
   “You did Steve, which we will talk about later you dumb punk.” Bucky said, rubbing his thumb along Steve's knuckles.  
   “So then, where are we?” 

   “Steve, I'm gonna tell you some stuff that's not gonna seem possible. You just gotta trust me and, God, just don't freak out.”  
   Steve gave him a “go on” look, without speaking.

  
   “You've been buried under the Arctic Circle for about seventy years. You put the Valkyrie down and somehow you weren't killed. The ice preserved you. It's two-thousand and eleven.”

 

   He watched for Steve's reaction as he spoke, Steve quietly absorbed what he was being told, but the heart rate monitor gave away his panic as it skyrocketed.

  
   “I don't, but how... what?” he asked, his grip on Bucky's hand tightening to what would probably be painful levels to any other person.  
   “You're in the future. I wish there were a better way to tell you, but it's the truth.”  
   “How are you here too then?” he asked, accusation thick in his tone.  
   “That's, a long story, for a different day. Short version is I didn't die when I fell, Hydra got me,” those words made Steve jerk back slightly, “I got out though Steve, you're at SHIELD headquarters, it's an organization that Peggy and Howard started to combat Hydra.” he quickly added.

  
   Steve sat quietly for a few minutes and Bucky let him, there must have been so much going through his mind right now and he wasn't about to force him to talk.  
   “So it's the future?” Steve asked carefully.  
   “Yes.” Bucky answered, sighing.  
   “But you're here? You're real?”

  
   And that broke Bucky's heart a little, but he understood, because this was so crazy that he would probably wonder the same thing if he were Steve.

  
   “Yes Stevie, I'm real.”

  
   Steve closed his eyes and rested his head against his pillow.  
   “Ok.” he breathed, like it was all that simple.


	3. Chapter 3

   The two of them were granted almost an hour before Bucky was ushered from the room so that more tests could be run now that Steve was awake. It was nearing six as he walked to the cafeteria to try and find something to eat (if he could manage it). He ran into Natasha and Clint, who had previously been on a mission, and sat with them after getting some fruit and bagel.

  
   “Damn Barnes, you look like hell.” Clint laughed, stirring an unhealthy amount of sugar into his coffee.  
   “Early morning.” he said shortly, because it wasn't really a lie (he couldn't mention just yet that his once dead best friend was actually alive). “How was the mission?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.

  
   “Boring really. I mean, the first couple of times going to Tokyo is cool, but after a while that shit gets dull.” Barton complained.  
   She was eyeing Bucky in that way that said she wasn't fooled and knew something was up, she also knew better than to ask if he wasn't volunteering the information. He was glad she let him be as Clint went on about Japan without really talking about their mission at all. It was a nice distraction, while it lasted.

   Bucky was no stranger to Director Fury's office, he was often there getting yelled at for one reckless thing or another, even though he got the job done every time. The fact that he wasn't going to get yelled at was probably the reason he was so nervous this time around as he sat across from Fury, who was reading over something (a report probably) on his computer. He finished up and finally turned his attention to Bucky, folding his hand together on top of his desk.

  
   “So,” he started, before shifting to lean back and sigh. “This is a fucking weird situation.”

  
   Bucky wanted to laugh, because that was the understatement of the century.

  
   “The doctors are trying to think of the best course of action for Captain Rogers, since medically they have no reason to keep him here. He passed their tests with flying colors. Granted no one ran any psychological testing, but physically, he's fine.”  
   “And they don't know whether to keep him here or what? Set him loose on the future with no preamble?”  
   “It's ridiculous, one of them actually came to me and suggested they give him a packet of information to orient him to the future.” Fury grumbled, rolling his eyes (eye?).  
   “That's what they did with me whenever they woke me up. They gave me a fancy pamphlet with everything that had changed.” he laughed, it had been a shit thing to do.

    “He needs more than that, you needed more than that, but I wasn't around then, so moot point.”  
   “Trying to keep him locked won't work. I know Steve, that'll only make him want to break out. As much as history makes it seem like he is, that kid is shit at following orders. They changed so much documentation after the fact to make it look like his insubordination was the original plan.”

  
   Bucky allowed himself to laugh at that, having been privy to one too many ass reamings for allowing Steve to do something reckless. No one knew that Bucky had talked Steve down from doing something even worse than what they ended up getting in trouble for. History had no idea what a little shit Steven Rogers was and it tickled Bucky to no end.  
   “I'm liable to defer to your judgement, you know him best.” Fury said and that was weird, Fury admitting that Bucky actually knew something.  
   “He's gonna wanna learn things on his own, go out and research and explore. I'm not against some limitations at first, for his mental safety, but your best bet is to bite the bullet, announce he's alive, and let him decided how he wants to do this.” Bucky explained, shrugging.

   Fury sat for a moment, thinking.

  
   “Ok, he's how it's gonna go: we release him to you, he stays in for at least two weeks so you can help ease him into the new stuff. We get updates every couple of days and he see's a doctor, either in person or over video, I don't care.”  
   “He won't stay indoors for two weeks. Give him a radius.” Bucky countered.  
   “Two mile radius around your apartment.”  
   “I can manage that.”  
   “No overtly public appearances. We'll do a press release today so we can release him, you take him straight home. He doesn't leave for forty-eight hours. You drove that God awful SUV here right?”

  
   Bucky barked in laughter, “I can manage forty-eight hours and yeah, I did.”  
   “Ok. That's that then. Go.”

 

   Steve was sitting on a couch near a window, he was dressed in jeans and a light jacket with work boots and was looking out the window at New York City stretched out below him. Maria said they had let him up there almost two hours ago.

   “Steve.” Bucky said softly, not wanting to startle his friend.  
   “It's so big now. There are so many people Buck.”  
   “Yeah pal, I know.”

   He thought back to New York circa nineteen forty, it had seemed busy then, but was nothing compared to the New York of today.  
Bucky watched as Steve stood up, pulling at the clothing he was wearing and looked across at Bucky, his eyes looked lost, like he must feel.

   “These clothes are so tight too. I don't get it. This is all so much Buck,” he said, voice strained, “They told me a black man was president. We won the war. I don't,” he closed his eyes and tried to even his breathing.  
   “I know Steve.” was all Bucky could manage as he crossed the room to his friend and embraced him.

   It was everything Bucky remembered hugging Steve was, warm and solid, but different in that Steve crumbled against him, burring his face in Bucky's shoulder and he shuddered.  
   “God, I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here.” he said, voice muffled by Bucky's shoulder.  
   “You'd do what you always do and take this head on.” Bucky assured Steve, rubbing his broad back with his flesh hand.  
   

   He still hadn't broken that news to Steve and figured he only had so much time before Steve stopped being distracted by the outside before he noticed.

   “Stevie, I gotta tell ya something else before we leave, ok?”  
   Steve stepped back slightly, his eyes red and wet, “We're leaving?”

   “Yeah, you're coming home with me, if that's alright with you?”  
   “Of course it is Buck, I was hoping that they would, you know. But uh, what was it, that you needed to tell me?”

   He sighed, knowing Steve wouldn't think any less of him for the arm and for everything that had happened, which, yeah, he would get to the rest of it later.  
   “When I fell and Hydra got me, my arm got fucked, so they amputated it.”  
   Steve got that confused look on his face again and looked at Bucky all over again, from head to toe. Bucky slipped his left hand from where it was hiding in his pocket, holding it up for Steve to see. He was expecting a lot of reactions from Steve, but anger wasn't one of them.

   “They took your arm?! What the hell? And they what, gave you a metal one?”  
   “It operates just like a real one. Actually, this one is better than the one I had, Tony Stark got a hold of the schematics and improved it.” he explained, shrugging.  
   Steve was clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment before his face softened, “Can I?” he asked.

   Bucky held out his hand, palm up, for inspection. Steve was gentle as he took the metal hand in both of his, running his thumbs across the palm, feeling the plates of it, he felt the fingers and bent a couple of them.  
   “How far does it go?”  
   “All the way to my shoulder.”  
   Steve got that angry look on his face again, holding the hand fully now in both of this.  
   “You're here Bucky, I wouldn't care if you were more metal than not,” he said, pulling Bucky back in for another hug, “You're here and that's all that matters.”

   Bucky couldn't have agreed more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I should be posting notes at the beginning of every chapter or not?  
> I don't have a lot to say...

   The ride back to Brooklyn (Steve had been excited about the fact that Bucky still lived in Brooklyn) started as a quiet one. Steve was looking out the window the whole time, watching the people on the sidewalks and the other cars.  
   “You can ask me questions Steve, anything really, I'll answer what I can.” Bucky said, glancing at Steve.  
   “I don't know where to start. The only questions I really want answers to right now involve you.”

   Bucky sighed.

   “I'm sorry Steve, today probably isn't the best day to get into that.”  
   “S'okay, I figured.” Steve assured him, not turning his attention from the window. “Women's skirts are a lot shorter now.” he observed.  
   “Yeah, they are. Modesty is a lot different in this day and age.”

   Steve huffed, looking out the windshield now. He had spent almost twenty minutes looking over the car before they had gotten in, Bucky explaining the differences in vehicles today and how they were more mainstream. That had lead to a conversation about car prices and inflation and the fact that two dollars was nothing anymore.  
   “So I have to stay indoors for forty-eight hours?” he asked, fidgeting slightly.  
   “Yeah, they want to give it time for the news to die down a little. Even then, we have to keep you close to home for a couple of weeks. We'll be able to do downtown a little at least.” Bucky explained.  
   Steve just nodded, craning his head back afterwards to look up at the sunroof.  
   “Push that button.” Bucky instructed, pointing to the control for the sunroof window, and smiled when Steve pushed the button and gaped slightly. “Everything is automated now.”  
   “Convenient.” Steve mumbled, sticking his hand out the sunroof.

   When they got to the apartment, the first thing Bucky did was explain the security system, he showed Steve how to arm and unlock it and had him do it just to make sure he got it. Once they were done he just sat back and let Steve walk around. He wandered through the place, touching things here and there, but not asking anything quite yet. Steve had done about two laps of the apartment when he stopped in the middle of the living room and pointed at the television with a questioning look.

   “Television, like a movie but smaller and in your home. Just about everyone has them, they pretty much replaced the radio.” he explained.  
   Bucky still had a radio too and old one he had found at a store and fixed up, he also had a record player and used it more than his stereo. Steve didn't miss either of these items and smiled fondly when he saw them. After another, more detailed inspection of the apartment, Steve made his way back to the living room, where Bucky had settled onto the couch.  
   “Are you rich?” he asked.  
   “Not hardly. I'm doing well, nothing like we used to, but I'm a far cry from rich.”  
   Steve sat down hard on the couch, sinking into it and resting his head against the back of it, eyes closed.

   “I may stay in for more than forty-eight hours. I feel like I'll need a week to adjust to this alone.” he said, gesturing lazily to the room.  
  “Whatever you need Stevie. We do this at your pace. The only thing I have to insist on is talking to the therapist.”  
   When Fury and Bucky had been hashing things out Steve had been given a rundown about the reality of his situation and the fact that he would need to see someone.

   “They told me, had to explain that that was a thing now, talking to people about this stuff.”  
   “I know, it's a lot to get used to.” Bucky said, knocking his knee with Steve's. “There are a few things we need to focus on now though, like getting you clothes and things for your room. The second bedroom is a reading room mostly, there is a queen sized Murphy bed in there though. We can get you whatever else you want for it.”  
   Steve just nodded.

   “I don't wanna impose too much. I'm sure you've got your life pretty well hashed out at this point.”  
Bucky turned to Steve on the couch, reaching out to touch his arm, he craved touching Steve, because he had to constantly make sure this was real.  
   “Steve, you could never impose. I can't- I probably seem like I'm holding myself together pretty well right now but trust me pal, I'm going crazy inside. Half of me can't believe this is real, I've been screwed with so much, I'm just, so incredibly happy that you're here right now. I know it's different, that it's not the same as back then, but fuck Stevie.” he choked off his soulbearing to wipe at his eyes.  
   Steve yanked him into a tight embrace, clutching at him like a terrified child, and when Bucky felt him shaking before finally letting a sob rip itself from his throat, he couldn't hold back anymore and held onto Steve as he let himself finally, finally cry (after seventy long years).

   They were a mess when it was all said and done, Steve's face was red and splotchy, his eyes blood shot as he sniffled and wiped at his face. Bucky found them both warm washcloths and cool glasses of water to help calm them down. He sat and watched as Steve sipped his water slowly.  
  “I'm scared Buck.” he admitted.  
  “It's ok to be Stevie. We'll figure this out. Just like we always have.” he promised, leaning back against the couch.  
  “I hope you're right.” Steve sighed.

   When they were finally calm enough to do something again it was getting dark out, Bucky showed Steve the bathroom and found some sleep clothes that would probably fit him, before leaving him to shower.  
   Bucky made his way to the kitchen and started pulling out the makings for pasta, something simple but filling. Steve said they had fed him at headquarters, but he knew his metabolism would have him hungry again soon anyways. In the war Steve ate huge portions and even though Bucky had always known why, he now felt his pain. Whatever botched version of the serum Bucky had spiked his metabolism, though he had been helped out by nutritionists at SHIELD to figure out a diet that had him eating more than three meals a day instead of binging at three meals. He would be sure to introduce Steve to the method, but for now, he settled for getting out his largest pot and emptying two boxes of pasta into them (he had missed two of his own meals for all the fuss and was sure Steve would be famished from the exhausting day). While that was boiling he found some ground sausage and got that on the stove to brown. He listened while he cooked, not blaming Steve for taking so long in the shower. The food was almost ready when he finally heard the water turn off, only to have it turned right back on. Bucky stood, thinking maybe he missed some soap, but the water stayed on for another ten minutes, so he went to investigate.

   “Steve?” he called, knocking loudly on the door.

When there was no answer he opened it slowly, calling Steve's name again.

   “It's too cold.” came Steve's voice, echoing out of the shower.  
   “What?”  
   “I tried to get out but, it's too cold Buck.”  
   “Ok Steve, hold on.” Bucky called back.

   He slipped out of the room and made his way to his bedroom, stopping to crank the heat as he did, even if it was only August, he'd strip down if he got too hot. Bucky grabbed a pair of thermal socks and a flannel shirt from his dresser, before finding the warmest sweatshirt he owned, finally he yanked the comforter off of this bed. He couldn't blame Steve for not liking the chill at all, he had been on ice for years and only hoped that Steve hadn't been uncomfortable this whole time, too proud to admit he wanted to be warmer.

   Bucky knocked again before walking right into the bathroom where it was steamer than before.  
   “I brought warmer clothes for you, but you're gonna have to turn off the shower and dry off ok pal?”

   Steve made a noise from the other side of the curtain.  
   “I turned up the heat too and brought a blanket, you just gotta handle it for a minute or two to get dressed.” he encouraged, setting the clothes on the toilet seat to they were close. “I gotta step out to finish dinner.” he announced.  
   “Ok Buck.” came Steve's weak reply.

   As much as he didn't want to, Bucky left Steve to go back to the kitchen, he got there just in time to save the meat from burning and turned everything off before mixing the pasta and meat with some Alfredo sauce. While it sat on warm he set a mug of milk in the microwave to heat up and found his chocolate sauce. He had the mug of hot chocolate ready just in time for Steve to wander into the kitchen, bundled in the warm clothes, blanket pulled tight around his shoulders.

   “Doing OK?” Bucky asked, trying to ignore how warm it was getting in the kitchen between the stove and the upped thermostat.  
   Steve nodded quietly before slipping into one of the chair at the small table Bucky had. Bucky placed the mug in front of him, gaining a sad smile from Steve.  
   “M'sorry.” he mumbled.  
   Bucky let his flesh hand fall to Steve's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, “You don't gotta apologize to me Steve. I couldn't take a shower for almost a year, bathes only.” he said, leaving it at that.

   The two of them ate in relative silence, Steve only speaking to tease Bucky about being able to cook now, but there wasn't much energy behind it.

   After dinner Bucky cleaned up while Steve went and made a nest on the couch, but the time Bucky was done he had to retreat to his room and pull on some gym shorts and a short sleeve shirt. He tried not to be self conscious of the arm as he walked back into the living room. Steve was curled up at one end of the couch, blanket pulled up tight around his neck, his eyes tracking Bucky as he moved across the room to sit as well. As soon as he did, Steve stretched out and tucked his feet under Bucky's thighs, like they used to sit all the time when Steve was still small and his circulation was bad.

  “You're too hot now.” Steve observed, furrowing his eyebrows.  
   “S'no big deal Stevie.” he assured Steve, smiling at him.

   He had been avoiding it since they got home, but now Bucky reached for his phone on the coffee table where he had left it and turned it back on.

   “That's a phone, right?” Steve asked, craning his neck to get a better look.  
   “Sure is, you can scoot closer and take a look, I ain't got nothing embarrassing on here.”  
 

   Steve did as such, pressing his blanketed shoulder close to Bucky's and looked down at the screen as Bucky swiped it open.  
   “How does that work?”  
“It's a touch screen. The phone senses the heat and pressure on the phone and can tell where you're pressing.” he explained, holding it out for Steve to take, ignoring the icons telling him he had missed calls and messages.

   Steve looked down at the phone moving to hold it like Bucky had been and used his pointer finger on his left hand to touch an icon. He ended up bringing up the calculator.

   “How do you make it go away?” he asked showing Bucky.  
   “Press the round button down here.” Bucky instructed, showing him the home button.  
   Steve hit it and raised his eyebrows as the screen returned to the home screen, he swiped with his finger, filing through the couple of pages that Bucky had set up on his phone.

   “These each do something?” he asked, pointing at an app.  
   “Yeah, they're called applications. Some are for fun, like they have games on them, like solitaire. Others are tools, like the calculator, or a map. Some are for communication, hit that one.” he told Steve, having him bring up his text messages.

   It brought up all of his conversations, showing he had missed texts from Natasha (three), Clint (5), and Tony (Twenty-seven). He figured Natasha's would be the safest to open, so he told Steve to select it.  
   “It's an instant system of typing that gets sent to a person, they can read it immediately and send something back, it's called texting.” he explained, reading the texts from Natasha over Steve's shoulder.

   Natasha [16:38]: I knew something was up.  
   Natasha [15:50]: Let me know how you're doing?  
   Natasha [19:03]: Clint won't leave me alone, he thinks I can magically make you respond to me...

   “It's ok if I read these?” Steve asked, looking over at Bucky.  
   “Yeah, Natasha is a co-worker, her and Clint, they're good friends of mine. I saw them this morning but couldn't tell them what was up, they're just excited for me, for us.” he said, smiling. “You can send her something if you want.” he offered, making Steve's eyes widen.

   “Can I?” he asked, a smiling splitting across his face.  
   “Yeah, she'd get a kick out of it. Just touch your finger in the little white bar there and it'll bring up the keyboard, then just touch the key you want.” he told Steve.  
   Steve did it all with his pointer finger, like Bucky had seen Clint's grandmother do, and it was the cutest thing Bucky had seen in a long time. He struggled a little, his finger big enough it would sometimes hit the wrong key so he had to backspace and try again. Bucky was grinning the whole time, watching Steve hunched over the phone, his full attention given to writing to Natasha, when he was done he held the phone out and asked Bucky,“Is this OK?”.

   Bucky looked at the phone and then smiled up at Steve, “That's perfect. Usually you don't have to be so formal, but it's no big deal. Hit the “send” button.”  
Steve did and they watched as it popped up in the conversation, the time showing at the bottom, Bucky told Steve that meant it sent and Natasha should have received it.

   Me [20:23]: Good evening Natasha, this is Steve. Bucky is showing me how to use his phone, I hope it is OK that I am writing to you. Bucky tells me you are his coworker and a good friend, thank you for dealing with him, I know he can be a jerk.

   They sat and waited a moment and sure enough a reply from Natasha came through quickly, Steve looked taken aback at the quick response time.  
   “So wait, this is her reply?” he asked, pointing as the screen, “That quickly?”  
   “Yup, something you'll notice is that everything now is so quick, people want everything now, without waiting. In some cases, like texting, it's nice, other times not so much. Here, read what she said.”

   Natasha [20:24]: Hello Steve, James is definitely a jerk. I'm honored I'm the first person you're texting. Our other friends are going to be so jealous. My friend Clint and I hope you are doing OK, we know this must all be very overwhelming and we will help you and James in any way we can.

   Bucky got a little teary eyed again reading the response, because this was a big show of emotion on Natasha's part and he was happy to know he had her and Clint's support. Steve was smiling down at the phone when it buzzed, startling him.  
   “That means I have a text from someone else,” Bucky informed him, showing him how to go back to his conversations.

   The text had come from Clint, so he had Steve select his name to bring up his messages.

   Clint [14:43]: You were weird at breakfast, don't do that.  
   Clint [16:37]: WE JUST SAW THE PRESS CONFERENCE, WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!?!  
   Clint [16:41]: ANSWER US!  
   Clint [16:43]: BAAAAAAAAAAAAARNES  
   Clint [16:45]: Nat says I have to leave you alone, text us.  
   Clint [20:24]: I want Steve to text me too!!!!!! :(((((((((

   “What are those?” Steve asked, pointing to the frowny face.  
   “He's frowning a lot.”

   Steve looked at it for a second longer before laughing, “Oh! I get it, like a face! Can I write him back?” he asked, turning to look at Bucky.  
   “Sure thing pal, you'll make his night.

   It took Steve less time this round, though he still used his pointer finger to type out the message, hitting send without asking.

   Me [20:27]: Hello Clint, this is Steve. Natasha says you'll be jealous I texted her first. Thank you for being Bucky's friend. :)

   Bucky couldn't hold back the laughter at seeing Steve use an emoji, because of course he would get the hang of this quickly. Steve was so good at adapting to things that it was ridiculous.

   “What's funny?” Steve asked.  
   “Just the smiley face you used, Clint's going to lose his mind.” Bucky said, nudging Steve's shoulder.  
   “Did I use it wrong?”  
   “Not at all, that's the best part, you're getting the hang of this quickly.”  
   “It's nice,” he said, when the reply from Clint came through.

   Clint [20:29]: I feel like Jesus himself has come back from the dead to bless me oh my god please tell me you learned the smiley face from me!  
   Me [20:30]: Bucky had to explain what it was to me, I hope I used it right.  
   Clint [20:30]: My life is complete :D

   Steve smiled at the phone, before looking at Bucky and handing it back.

   “I didn't mean to take over.” he said, blushing a little.  
   “Steve's it's fine, I promise. You probably just made Clint's year.” he assured him, taking the phone.

   He went back to Natasha's conversation and texted her (using his thumbs like a normal human being, only thanks to the soft pads Tony had designed on the arm's fingers), Steve watched him as he texted.

   Me [20:31]: thanks nat this is Bucky again. I'm good right now and will probably need a thing or two later once we sort things out and get through the first night. I have a shit ton of texts from Tony that I'm probably going to leave for tomorrow so dont tell him I texted you.

   “You're fast at that.” Steve observed, still looking at the phone. “Is that how you're supposed to do it, with your thumbs?”  
   “It's generally the fastest way, but whatever works really.” Bucky answered, looking down when Nat's text came through.

   Natasha [20:32]: You know I don't willingly talk to Stark. Clint is beside himself right now, so thank Steve for me. He says he's going to write a book about teaching Steve Rogers about emoji's. I'm about to kick him out so I can sleep, ttyl.

   “What's an emoji?”  
   “The smiley face you used.”  
   “Oh ok, what does that mean?” Steve asked, pointing to Natasha's text talk.  
   “It mean's “talk to you later”.”

   Steve just nodded, his eyebrows screwing down again.

   “There's so much just for texting, how am I supposed to learn everything?” he sighed.  
   “Steve, no one is expecting you to do it all in one day. We'll teach you as you go.” he assured Steve, staying true to his word and not even looking at Tony's text messages.  
   “Yeah. Ok. Oh, Natasha said Stark?” Steve said, the inflection in his voice making it a question.  
   “Yeah, Tony Stark, Howard's son.”  
   “He had a kid?!”

   Bucky laughed, “That's what I thought, but again, story for a different day. I don't know about you, but I'm tired as hell, wanna get your bed set up and tuck in?”  
Steve nodded, so they stood up and ventured to the second bedroom.

   Bucky pulled the Murphy bed out of the closet and Steve helped him make it up, he told Steve to hang onto the comforter Bucky had grabbed because he had more in his room. It took all of fifteen minutes to get things settled.  
  “Thanks Buck.” Steve said, a light smile playing at his lips as he went to hug Bucky.

   He returned the hug and assured Steve it was no problem.  
   “Come find me if you need anything, just uh, knock really loud OK? Don't try to come in to wake me up please.” he asked, a little shy about the whole thing.  
   

   Steve got a weird look on his face, but just nodded, before saying good night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter.

   The sound of a floorboard creaking in the living room woke Bucky up from the light sleep he was managing. He was silently rolling out of bed in a flash, snatching a knife from between his bed and wall as he went. His door was opened without a sound and crept noiselessly down the hall; he looked at the silhouette of Steve against one of the large windows in his living room and let out a huff of a breath.

   Somehow he had forgotten Steve was here.

   Steve turned at the sound, causing Bucky to move so the knife was hidden behind him as he looked at Steve. It was obvious the gesture hadn't gone unnoticed by his friend though.  
   “You OK Bucky?” Steve asked quietly.  
   “Yeah, sorry. I uh, heard you out here, I'm not used to other people being in the apartment and it- I'm good.” he stammered, wanting to retreat back to his room and hide the knife.

   Hide the fact that he had been ready to attack Steve.

   “M'sorry, I couldn't sleep, so I came out here.” he said, running a hand through his hair like he did when he was nervous.  
   “No it's fine Steve, I just have to get used to it is all.” Bucky said,stepping forward into the room.

   He set the knife down on a side table, trying to ignore the look he got from Steve, it was no use though.  
   “I know you said a different day Buck, but I gotta, I can't- How you're here too, I wanna know. I get that it wasn't pleasant, I can see that when you mention it, but please.” he went on, his hands in fists at his side.

   “Sit down Steve.” Bucky sighed, resigning himself to what was going to happen, and turned to go into the kitchen.

   He made tea for the two of them, some expensive stuff that Tony's friend Bruce had brought back from India or something. It was pretty good, which was why Bucky was making it, that and it helped to calm him down sometimes when he was wound up.  
Steve was on the couch when Bucky went back to the living room, he was bundled up in the blanket again, even though the apartment was already warm. Bucky set a mug in front of Steve and put his own on the coffee table, unable to sit down. He couldn't when he talked about this, about what had happened to him. Bucky sighed, began pacing, and started talking.

   He told Steve everything, starting from the fall, at least what he could remember. A lot was still fuzzy, but he was glad for it most times. Bucky told Steve about being made into the Winter Solider and how they had used Steve's death to break him. He told Steve about going under cryo all those times and he told him about the killings (he remembered all of those). Steve sat quietly as Bucky recounted trying to kill Howard and Maria Stark, only to be jarred somehow, from the brainwashing (Bucky never told anyone, but Howard had, in that moment, made a comment about Steve that for some reason pulled Bucky straight out of the cold). The story only got marginally better from there. Bucky had tried to do things on his own only to realize that wasn't gonna happen, so he had gone to Peggy for help (Steve perked up a little at her name, and Bucky just kind of shook his head, she had passed a couple of years ago from breast cancer). He told Steve about having to go under again for fear of falling back under Hydra control, about being woken every year until they found a solution. Steve sat quietly as Bucky told Steve about questioning why he tried to stick around when he was so out of his time period (didn't tell him he was trying to make up for all the bad he did, he was sure Steve knew that without it being said). It wasn't until Bucky finished telling Steve about how he was now working for SHIELD to fight Hydra that Steve said anything. He sat there the whole time, watching Bucky pace and sipping his tea, his face changing with the story, but not speaking.

   When he finally spoke, all Steve said was: “God Buck, you're fuckin' incredible.”  
   Bucky laughed bitterly, stopping in the middle of the living room to look back at Steve.

   “I'm a murderer Steve.”  
   “That wasn't you.” Steve said, anger finally flashing across his face.  
   “Oh I know Steve, don't get me wrong. I've had plenty of time to get that through my skull, but it don't mean it still wasn't done, that it wasn't my hands that done it.”

   Steve sighed and patted the couch until Bucky came to join him, melting into the cushions and Steve's side.  
   “Thanks for telling me Buck. It helps, you know, to understand this new you a bit better. This is, a lot to process, I mean, all of it, not just this right here.” Steve said, smiling over at Bucky. “So thanks.”  
   “Of course Steve, I don't care if seventy or a hundred years pass, you're still my best friend, I want you to know that Steve.”

   Bucky didn't say how Steve was his rock, his lighthouse, the one thing that pulled him out of the cold. He couldn't tell Steve how many nights he had lay awake wishing he were good enough to deserve Steve, in every way that he wanted him. It was something now, that he had pushed to the back of his mind, because then it wasn't legal and after it didn't matter, and now, Steve needed Bucky to be his rock. Steve needed Bucky to be his lighthouse so Steve could come out of the cold and into the twenty-first century.  
Steve didn't need the old Bucky who pinned and was useless, so Bucky would continue to push just how much he had missed Steve to back to his mind and be the friend that Steve deserved.

   And just that.


	6. Chapter 6

   They had gone back to bed early in the morning, so Bucky wasn't surprised to find himself waking up past noon. He also was surprised to be woken by his phone going off, again, or that it was Tony calling, Bucky was surprised that he waited this long and hadn't just come over.

   “I gave you over twelve hours so you should honestly be proud of me.” Tony said when Bucky finally answered.  
   “I really, truly am Tony.” he deadpanned.  
   “You're long lost boyfriend comes through alive and you can't even spare me a text message with how happy you are? I expect you to cry on my shoulder the next time I see you.”  
   “I'll be sure to never see you again then.” Bucky joked, rolling out of bed. “Also, not my boyfriend, I'm gonna nip that one in the butt right now, stop it.”  
   “Boo, you're no fun. God. Fine. Ok, so, tell me, is it everything you ever dreamed?”  
   “I will hang up on you Tony.” he threatened.  
   “Throw me a bone here Barnes! My dad was six sorts of gay for this guy. I'm gonna get to meet him right?” Tony asked.  
   “If you never say the phrase “six sorts of gay” again, I might consider it.”

   Tony scoffed loudly into the phone.

   “Tony, yes, I am probably the happiest I have ever been in my life right now ok? But I'm not the focus right now, Steve is, this is a lot to go through and I am willing to put myself on the back burner to help him. Now, I can hear him rummaging through my kitchen, so I'm gonna go. Bye.”

   He hung up before Tony could get another word in and left his phone in his room and he wandered out and to the kitchen. Steve was, sure enough, head first in the fridge, though he straightened up when Bucky walked in.

   “I'm starving.” he announced, his cheeks turning a little red.  
   “No problem Stevie, I'm gonna have to introduce you to my meal plan eventually, before you eat me out of house and home.” he teased, beginning to gather what he needed to make pancakes, because they were easy and filling.

   Steve watched him as he worked, he was still in the sweatshirt and socks, but had ditched the blanket for the time being. In no time they had more pancakes than even they could eat and once they had finished a good majority of them off, the two settled into the couch. Bucky was already regretting the forty-eight hour promise because even he was getting stir crazy, but there was nothing to be done at this point. It was probably better this way as it were. Steve eventually started asking random questions about this or that and so they passed the time that way, Bucky not quite ready to release Steve to the internet.

   The next day though, Bucky showed Steve how to use his laptop and Wikipedia, because Steve had more in-depth questions about things than Bucky would have expect, or knows the answers to. He resolves himself to sitting around listening to Steve rant about one thing or another that he's been looking up, most having to do with historical events that are long past (Vietnam, the Gulf War, 9/11). It's both endearing and so incredibly “Steve” that Bucky has to occasionally remind himself what year it is. Bucky enjoyed finding out what Steve looked up, what he considered important things that he wanted to know about. Steve of course looks up civil rights and woman's rights, because he's that sort of good, he spends a surprising amount of time reading about space travel and moon landing, even going so far as to ask Bucky if that is really true.

   (“They really went to the moon?” he asked in amazement.  
   “Yeah Stevie, you can watch the footage from it if you want.”)

   He spent so long on the computer that day that Bucky made him stop for a little while to rest his eyes.

   Bucky went to bed that night, leaving Steve in the living room, he had begged off not being tired, but Bucky knew he wanted to keep poking around, so he let him be and left to go sleep. He showered before getting into bed, taking a cooler one than he might normally since the heat was still up a bit for Steve's sake. Bucky had cracked his window, to let some cool air into his room so as to not suffocate himself and settled under his blanket, happy to know that Steve was on the other side of the wall.  
   If he thought about it long enough, Bucky would still get emotional that Steve was here, because it was so impossible that his brain told him it couldn't be true. He had worked through some exercises he hadn't had to use in a while to assure himself this was real, that he was real, that Steve was real. Tomorrow Steve would meet with a psychologist for the first time, hopefully to be cleared to be able to leave the house and venture out a little bit. Bucky already had plans to take him to his favorite cafe down the block a ways and maybe the book store too. He drifted off to sleep a little too warm, but it was a constant reminder of what he had gained.

   Four loud knocks jarred Bucky out of sleep, followed by Steve urgently calling his name, he sat up, calling for Steve to come in, fighting the urge to reach for a hidden weapon. Steve opened the door, the soft light of a lamp in the living room barely lighting the way, but Bucky could tell he was holding the laptop, a look on his face that Bucky had never seen before.

   “What's wrong Steve, you accidentally find a porno site?” he teased, only to regret it when Steve didn't laugh.  
   Steve cleared the space between the bed and door quickly, Bucky's mattress dipping as Steve climbed over the covers and shoved the computer into his lap.

   “Did you know about this?” he asked, pointing to the screen.  
   Bucky looked down to see a gay rights Wikipedia page open, a few other tabs were pulled up with article titles involving gay rights and a search for LGBT New York City (the fact that Steve already knew correct lingo made Bucky smile).

   “Oh yeah, same sex partners are legal now, can even marry in some states.” he said, looking up at Steve, who was staring at the computer with a mix of shock and anger (?).  
   “But all those people back in our day who had to hide, who got in trouble,”  
   “They paved the way for this Steve,” he assured him, touching his knee lightly.

   Bucky didn't know what to make of Steve's reaction, there was no way Steve was angry about this, he was the most liberal person Bucky had ever known back in the day, always saying he didn't care who liked who so long as they weren't hurting anyone.  
   “I mean, don't get me wrong, people are still bigots about it sometimes, but you won't get arrested at least.”  
   Steve just looked at the computer in Bucky's lap for a few minutes.

   “So two guys, they can be together now?” he asked, his voice quiet and unsure.  
   “Yeah Stevie, there are laws in place now to protect people from discrimination for being gay, at least to an extent, like you can't get fired from a place just 'cause you like guys and stuff like that.”  
   Bucky looked up from the computer to see Steve staring at him, until he seemed to realize he was and quickly turned his head away. He looked around and then suddenly snatched the computer, shuffling quickly off the bed.

   “Sorry Buck, I didn't mean to wake you.” he murmured, backing towards the door.  
   “It's no big deal Stevie,” he assured him, watching warily as Steve retreated out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

   And just like that, Bucky was left alone to wonder, left for his brain to get out of control about just why Steve was staring at him like that.  
   He didn't get much sleep in the end.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because it's not a proper fic without the "end of the line" shtick.

   The next morning found them back at SHIELD headquarters, Steve was relatively quiet the whole ride and said nothing when Bucky left him to his appointment. Luckily, Natasha was in today, so he went to find her.

   “Well, look who it is.” she said when he walked into the gym.  
   She swept him up in a short hug, patting his shoulder when they parted.

   “Hey Nat, sorry I haven't been in touch,” he apologized, smiling.  
   “You have the best reason not to right now James.” she said, going to sit on one of the benches along the outer walls of the room

   He joined her, leaning against the wall and sighing.

   “How goes it?” she asked, drinking from a water bottle.  
   “Good, I think. He was doing good, I set him loose on the internet yesterday, but he's been, odd, this morning.”  
   “Maybe he came across something that hit him hard?” she suggested.

   Bucky bit the bullet and told her about the whole “being gay isn't illegal anymore” thing, which had her eyebrows in her hairline.  
   “Well that certainly is interesting.”  
   “I don't get it, he wasn't, I mean, I don't think he was, or is. He's never said anything.” Bucky stammered.  
   “Think about it, do you honestly think he would considering how things used to be, and then the war, he was probably scared, if he's even gay or bisexual at all.”  
   “We told each other everything though.” Bucky sighed.  
   “Everything?” she asked, giving him a pointed look.

   Bucky groaned, because of course her and him have had that conversation, the one where Bucky admitted that yeah, he was gay, and no, Steve never knew, thank you very much. He had been great at playing the part of the lady's man back when, because he was too terrified of anyone finding out, so he had immersed himself with woman to try and throw anyone (even himself sometimes, he had thought that maybe he just needed to find the right girl) off his scent. He never told Steve though, because telling Steve he was gay would lead no doubt to Steve finding out that Bucky was, as Tony put it, “six sorts of gay” for Steve.

   “Fuck you Natasha.” he grumbled.  
   “Oh come now, we both know you don't want to James,” she teased, smirking.  
   “I don't know what to do.” he sighed.  
   “Be there for Steve,” she said, plain as day, “There's not much else you can do. If he wants to come out to you, let him. If not, leave it be. There's no point in dwelling over it James. And I know you well enough by now to know you're not going to push your feelings onto him.”  
   “That's not what he needs.” he said, his new mantra for this new Steve in this new reality.

   In the thirties it had been, “you're not well, you can't like Steve, you're sick,” in the forties, “He's you're best friend, it's illegal, he doesn't want it”.

   Natasha shrugged, “Who is to say what he needs, this is sort of unprecedented, even you can't entirely relate to him on this. I'd say let him set the stage James. I mean, if he does come out and say he likes you as more than a friend, can you honestly say you'd deny him that?”

   Bucky didn't have to think about that for a second, because he and Natasha both knew the answer was no.

   They heard Clint before they saw him, talking loudly about memes, which gave away who he was with. Natasha rolled her eyes as he and Steve entered the gym, Steve looking a little shell-shocked by Clint's energy.

   “Down Clint!” Natasha called across the room, making Clint look over at her and pout.  
   “Aw Nat, I'm teaching him about meme culture.” Clint cried.

   Steve looked, better, than he had that morning, he even smiled at Bucky when he saw him and Bucky couldn't help but return the gesture.

   “They gave me the all clear, I'm approved for travel outside up to a two mile radius, because I'm apparently still a child who needs babysitting and not a grown man who joined the Army and took down Nazi's.” Steve ranted, gaining an awed look from Clint.  
   “There's the Stevie I know and love.” Bucky teased, patting Steve on the shoulder.  
   “Wait, is he usually like that?” Clint asked.  
   “Uh, hell yeah, Steve here is the most sarcastic, sardonic son of a bitch I've ever known. People think it was always me getting us into scraps, but it was this punk who can't keep his mouth shut.” he said, trying not to sound too fond.

   Natasha's smirk said he probably wasn't that successful.  
   “I'm not the dumb jerk who continuously enabled me.” Steve said, only half under his breath.  
   “Which reminds me, we still have a conversation involving you and a plane and the Arctic Ocean.” Bucky said, making Steve grin and shrug.  
   “Let's be honest, you were ninety percent of my impulse control.”

   Even Natasha laughed at that.

   “Steve is my new favorite person, someone go tell Coulson sorry for me.” Clint said, beaming.  
   After things settled down, Bucky properly introduced Natasha and Steve, but it was short lived, because she and Clint had more debriefings and paperwork to do.  
   “Gotta love bureaucracy,” Natasha deadpanned, as she and Clint left the two of them.

   Steve was completely on board for the cafe when Bucky suggested it, but they decided it was close enough to walk to from the apartment. They left the car and walked, the air still warm enough that Bucky's long sleeves were enough for him (Steve was in a jacket and they had a beanie that was serving as a sort of distraction from who he was and to keep him warm).

   “Are these actually supposed to fool people?I feel like Clark Kent.” Steve joked, tapping on the plastic lens of the glasses Natasha had gifted them.  
   “Probably not, but at least we can say we tried.” Bucky said with a shrug, laughing at the hipster look Steve had ended up with.

   Luckily the place wasn't too crowded, though it was ten on a Wednesday, Steve looked a little at awe of all of the choices and ended up asking Bucky what to get. In the end he ordered them both caramel mocha coffees and scones. The barista smiled pleasantly and if she figured out who Steve was she was nice enough not to say anything.

   They found a table in a corner, away from the counter and settled in once they got their coffees, Steve, sipped his cautiously at first.  
   “Wow, this is good.” he said, smiling around the rim of the mug.  
   “Yeah, they love their fancy coffee in the twenty-first century.”

   They talked idly as they picked at their scones and coffee, Steve asking about Bucky's meal plan and expressing an interest in trying it sooner rather than later. Steve was talking about the Kennedy assassination when he suddenly went quiet mid sentence, his eyes getting a little wide. Bucky turned (because he had his back to the room) to see two women in line, holding hands.

   “Stevie, try not to stare.” Bucky warned with a light tone.

   Steve got red quickly and looked down at the table.

   “Sorry, it's just, God,” he sighed, lowering his voice, “They had kissed Buck and I got so scared for a second, thinking they were about to get yelled at, no one batted a eyelash though.”  
   He flicked his gaze up over Bucky's shoulder again, probably to the two women, a small smile playing on his face.

   “We have a black president, but the legality of same sex relationships hit you harder, huh?” Bucky asked, more teasing than anything, and he wished he hadn't when Steve's face hardened.  
   “I don't know Buck, I can't, I mean... I actually talked to the doctor about it, that's what took so long. It was so hard to wrap my head around, because growing up it was harped on, that it was, well you know, perverted, that it was sick. And now I wake up and it's not a big deal hardly anymore. I should probably be more shocked by other things, but-” Steve sighed, looking at the table again.

   When he looked up there was a challenge in his eyes and he held Bucky's gaze as he said:  
   “I always thought there was something wrong with me back then and now to wake up in a time where I'm being told there isn't. I never told you because I was worried, it was selfish, because I knew if you left me I'd have nothing, but, you need to know, because I gotta be sure you're alright with it if I'm gonna be staying with you again, here, when it's legal and I can-” he cut himself off before he finished, so Bucky didn't know if he meant to say “date now” or “do something about it” or “tell you without fear”, but it didn't matter what he was going to say because Bucky's world was tilting to the left with the news.

   “The article says the term is bisexual, you know, when you like two genders.” he was looking at the table again.  
   “Steve,” Bucky started, drawing Steve attention back to him, “Do you really, did you really think I'd hate you back then if I knew?”

   Steve shrugged, “Didn't know if you'd think it was disgusting, think I was, I don't know, lookin' at you like that.”  
   

   The world tilted right again, because that meant that, no, Steve hadn't ever been looking at Bucky “like that”, which hurt more than he wanted to admit.  
   “Steve, you're my best friend, I don't care who you want to date or sleep with, you're my friend and that won't change.” Bucky swore, gaining a nervous smile from Steve.  
   “I had resolved myself to tell you, I hadn't really meant to here, but, I couldn't have you helping me through all of this only to have it crumble if you ever found out.”  
   “Stevie, pal, I've said it before and apparently I'm gonna have to say it again, I'm with you to the end of the line, you can't get rid of me alright? No matter how hard we try, the universe had proven that we don't operate without the other.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony's humor is always just us trying to be funny when we know we aren't...

   Bucky knew even before they got to his door that someone was in the apartment, his skin prickled as they got closer, his steps faltering. Steve stilled beside him, looking down with concern, Bucky only held up a finger, pointing to his door, an old signal that someone was inside. The change in Steve was immediate, reminding Bucky that Steve was in fact, a trained fighter. He only looked marginally surprised when Bucky produced a firearm from where it was concealed at the back of his jeans and fell in line behind Bucky as they approached the door.  
   The door was still locked, which Bucky cursed, because it meant whoever was inside would know they were coming. He unlocked the door, stepping quickly inside with Steve at his back, and scanned to check the security system.

   It was off, which could only mean one thing.

   “Hope you don't plan on using that on me Robocop.” Tony said after peaking out of the archway from the kitchen.  
   “I damn well should.” he snapped, relaxing and putting the safety back on before setting the pistol on the table by the entryway.

   He felt it in the air when Steve relaxed behind him.

   “You must be the Capisicle.” Tony said, still only half of him in the hallway.  
   “You must be Howard Stark's son.” Steve called back, grinning.

   Tony narrowed his eyes at him.  
   “You look like him.” Steve offered.  
   “That's not a compliment.” Tony shot back, finally twisting completely out into the hall and walking towards the living room.

   Steve turned to look at Bucky.

   “He do this often?” he asked, probably referring to the B and E and not the snark.  
   “Less so now than he used to.” Bucky sighed, leading the way into the living room.

   Tony was set up by the record player, filing through Bucky's vinyl.  
   “You're lucky I waited this long to stop by.” Tony said over his shoulder, eyeing the two of them. “I've been waiting here all morning.”  
   “I'm sure Pepper appreciates that.” Bucky said as Steve disappeared into his own room, only to return with the sweatshirt on now.  
   “Pepper is a saint so she tolerates it.” Tony mumbled.

   Steve walked over to him and held out one of his insanely large hands.

   “It's nice to meet you Tony.” he said, smiling.

   Tony just eyed Steve's hand, an eyebrow raised, “You wanna handle this one Red Scare?”  
   “Tony doesn't shake hands.” Bucky said, making Steve drop his arm, hands flying to his hips and his his patriotic “I'm Captain America and I disapprove of this message” face showing itself.

   “Why does that not surprise me?” he said, rolling his eyes.  
   Tony stared, mouth open, pointing, “Oh my god, that's “the look” isn't it?”  
   “Yeah, sure is Tony, only took you five minutes to bring it out too, must be a new record.” Bucky laughed, making Steve turn “the look” on him.  
   “I do not have “a look”.” he argued, still doing the face.

   Bucky, because this was the twenty-first century, took his phone out and snapped a picture, before turning the phone to show Steve. The problem with this was that he hadn't told Steve phones could do that, so of course that launched Steve into a tizzy about phones and photography and how amazing it was.  
   Tony watched the whole thing like a child would a Disney movie, his face bright and happy the whole time, like this was the best thing that happened to him before saying:

   “Well it's your lucky day Cap, I brought you a phone of your own!”

   He proceeded to toss a Jitterbug phone across the room. Steve caught it and looked at it, then to Bucky, like he knew this wasn't right.

   “Tony, you realize that joke is completely lost on him right?” Bucky sighed, taking the thing from Steve.  
   “Yeah, but it makes me feel good, so it was worth it.” Tony snarked.

   Bucky then explained the Jitterbug to Steve, who got the joke.  
   “Because I'm old right?”  
   “Well yeah, it's not funny if you have to explain it though,” Tony pouted.  
   “You really are just like your father.”

   Tony sputtered as Bucky broke out into a fit of laughter.  
   “Let's be real Tony, you're a real Daddy's boy.” Bucky teased.  
   “Fuck you Barnes, we all know I'm a Momma's boy, no questions asked.” Tony shot back, grinning now.

   “Still can't believe he married.” Steve mumbled.  
   “I can't believe he married a woman.” Tony was then prompted to say.

   Steve raised an eyebrow, looking at Tony, who was smirking.  
   “My father had the biggest gayest crush on you Uncle Sam.”

   Bucky understood Tony had said this mostly for the shock value, probably not thinking the two of them had ventured down the “gay is legal” road yet, but it backfired spectacularly when Steve just smiled to himself and said:  
   “You think I didn't already know that?”

   Tony had to sit down, he was red and shaking his head, muttering something about “not wanting to know” and “please tell me my dad didn't take it from Captain America”.  
   It was a few minutes more before Tony looked up again and sighed.

   “Well, this did not go how I thought it would.”  
   Bucky laughed, “Please tell me you didn't think Steve wouldn't be exactly like me? Where do you think I got it from?”

   “Oh please Buck, you're worse than me.” Steve argued.  
   “Yeah right, I am an angel, my Ma told me so! Wasn't till I met your jerk ass that I started getting in trouble.” Bucky shot back.  
   “Oh my god, you two are terrible, you're worse than Clint and Natasha.” Tony laughed from the couch.

   Tony really had brought Steve a phone, a real phone, already set up and everything for him. Steve had lit up like a Christmas tree at it, even liking the ironic American Flag wallpaper Tony had set up. He had Bucky program his own number in it and he put Natasha's and Clint's in there for good measure.  
   “My number, is of course, already in there.” Tony had said, smiling.

   Steve had genuinely thanked him for the whole thing and sent Tony off probably more confused than the man had ever been in his life.

   Bucky left Steve to play around with the thing (he was even using the user's manual) to make them Afternoon Tea, or, the meal between Lunch and Dinner. He was just about done putting their sandwiches together when he heard the tell tale sound of an artificial camera shutter and turned to see Steve standing in the archway from the living room, his whole face red as he was caught.

   “Yours didn't make a noise!” he cried, lowering his phone.  
   Bucky assured him it was OK and then showed Steve how to turn off the shutter sound, smiling as he stood close to Steve, directing him on what to do.

   They ate on the couch, finally venturing to turn the television on for the first time since Steve got there. Bucky showed him Netflix and Hulu and how they worked and Steve found his way to the documentaries and never looked back.


	9. Chapter 9

   They fell into a sort of rhythm after that day, going to the cafe and the bookstore and just walking around the block in the mornings after waking up. Bucky introduced Steve to the Hobbit style of meal planning and soon Steve was helping to cook and reminding Bucky they needed to eat. Steve would do research on his phone and they would watch documentaries in the evenings until one day they were going back to headquarters because the two weeks were up.

   They sat with Natasha and Clint in the cafeteria after Steve's appointment, the two were eating lunch while Steve and Bucky had Elevensies. Steve had eventually texted the both of them on his new phone; Clint mostly sent Steve meme's and pictures of dogs, while Natasha's conversations with Steve were something private that Steve didn't tell Bucky about.  
   And that was fine, because he was an adult and was allowed to have his privacy.

   Bucky found it funny that Steve was slowly learning internet and pop culture, telling Bucky jokes that were years old, but he still laughed every time. He thought that was mostly thanks to Clint, who was currently engulfed in writing a list of movies Steve needed to see when Bucky saw a glint in Steve's eyes as he glanced over at Clint.  
   “Hey Clint.” Steve said, barely pulling the man's attention from the list, though Natasha and Bucky were watching Steve closely.  
   “Yeah Stevo?” Clint asked, distracted.  
   “You want some updog?” he returned, a little quickly.

   And Clint, without even looking up from the paper said:  
   “Nice try Steve, but you're about seventy years too late to get me with that one.”

 

   The next morning Bucky woke up to a completely empty apartment, he could tell without even leaving his bed. It took him a moment or two to still his breathing and talk himself down from a panic.  
   Steve was an adult, he was allowed to go out now, even by himself, Bucky would not freak out. Once he was at least sort of calm he checked his phone to see a text from Steve.

   Stevie [05:00]: I went for a run, hope this text doesn't wake you up. I'll bring back breakfast.

   Bucky sighed and rolled out of bed, shivering a little at the morning air. Steve had gotten better and they had turned the temperature back down to normal levels last week, which Bucky had been grateful for. He yawned, padding his way into the bathroom and turning on the shower. It was weird to have the place to himself when he knew Steve could be here, but it was good that Steve was out establishing his own routine, Lord knew Bucky needed to go running or something (he had been pulled from missions until further notice). He stripped down and stepped under the warm spray of the shower, letting it soak through his long hair, thinking back to a few days ago when Steve had finally made a comment about it.

   (“Why do you wear your hair long now?”  
   “Because it's not the forties anymore and I kinda like it. Why you got a problem?”  
   “No Buck, it looks good, was just wondering.”  
   Later that night they had been sitting on the couch when Steve asked if he could play with Bucky's hair, which really, he should have said no to, but he was stupid and said yes.)

   It was a mistake to think about it now too, because his body reacted in much the same way as it had that night, only Bucky wasn't really trying to stop it now, so his dick did it's own thing. Bucky sighed and rested his head on the cool tile wall, the contrast between that and the warm water somehow relaxing him further and not helping his situation.  
   He hadn't jerked off since Steve had gotten there, because they were constantly in the same space and he hadn't been willing to risk it with things still so new. Steve wasn't here now though and Bucky had nothing else to convince himself that he shouldn't do it. After bracing himself with his metal arm he let his flesh hand find it's way to his dick, causing him to hiss for how sensitive it was after a couple of weeks neglect. Realistically, he knew no one could hear him, but he still bit his lip to keep quiet as he worked his hand over himself, only allowing himself to pant into the humid shower air. Bucky did his best to keep the face of his masturbatory fantasy blank, but as he came against the tile wall, he saw a pair of deep baby blues looking up at him and full pink lips wrapped around him.

   Bucky had, in all the time he had known Steve, jerked off thinking about the guy too many times to count. It was not something he was proud of, in fact, he was rather ashamed of it, but it meant that when Steve came back, a large bag of pastries in one hand, coffee in another, that Bucky had no problems looking his best friend in the eyes.

   “Morning Buck!” Steve said, setting the bag on the table in the kitchen and handing Bucky's coffee to him.  
   “Mornin' Stevie, thanks for the coffee and the text.” he added, smiling.  
   “I didn't want you freaking out on me or nothin'.” he teased, smirking.

   Steve was in a pair of running shorts and some muscle shirt that Natasha had gifted to Steve in what could only be an attempt to murder Bucky. They had gathered Steve a pretty decent wardrobe by now, mostly from online shopping and, weirdly enough, random boxes left in their place by Tony (Bucky had explained that Tony showed affection with material goods). Bucky had to sit next to Steve on the couch while he continued to wear the tiny running shorts and pretend he didn't want to bury his face in Steve's thighs while they ate.

 

   “I didn't think you'd get this bad James.” Natasha laughed from her spotting position above Bucky.

   He was working out now when he brought Steve to headquarters for his bi weekly appointments, which was a good thing, because it was helping (albiet only slightly) with his growing sexual frustration.

   “That's the thing, it never was.” he sighed, breathing out and he lifted the weight back up, holding it there.  
   “I could set you up with someone. Bradley has expressed that he thinks you're hot.”

   Bucky rolled his eyes.  
   “You just want me to admit I'm not interested.” he accused, racking the weight and sitting up.  
   “Pining isn't healthy.”

   “Yeah, tell fifteen year old me that, maybe he won't fall in love.” Bucky huffed.  
   Natasha eyed him.  
   “Please tell me you didn't think I only wanted Steve for his body or something? I've had it bad for that kid since before I knew what that meant.”

   He walked towards the showers at that, not bothering to look back at her as he went.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, this chapter has a very short discussion of attempted suicide in it so please be aware of that!

   Bucky wanted to be mad that he kept getting woken up these days, but the moment he caught on to what the noise was that woke him up he was on his feet in an instant. He paused to knock on Steve's door, though he knew he wouldn't get an answer, he knocked twice before barging in.  
   Steve was twisted up in his blankets (three of them), he had a pained look on his face and was making the worst, most distressed sounds Bucky had never wanted to hear.  
   “Stevie.” he called, staying near the door, though it did nothing.  
   “Steve pal,” he tried, walking closer, “wake up Steve.”

   Nothing.

   Another sob (the noise that had woken Bucky) ripped through Steve, which had Bucky crowding his way onto the bed against his better judgement. He touched Steve's shoulder and then caught the hand that flew up to hit him, securing it lightly in his metal grip.  
   “Steve, wake up!” he snapped, giving him a shake.

   That worked, Steve snapped awake, alert all at once, panic on his face, it morphed into fear briefly before falling to relief as Steve's eyes darted across Bucky's face.  
   “You're alive!” he sobbed, pulling Bucky tightly against his chest, burrowing his head against Bucky's shoulder.  
   “I know Stevie, we both are, remember? You're in Brooklyn pal, it's 2011.” he said, quietly into Steve's ear.

   Steve nodded, his grip not letting up.  
   “My dream, you fell again.” he mumbled, sniffling.  
   “It's ok Stevie, I'm right here.” he cooed, not able to do much having his arms pinned down by Steve.

   In the next moment Steve was sitting up and pushing Bucky away, apologizing profusely and wiping at his eyes.  
   “Steve whoa, calm down, it's ok. I'm not mad.” Bucky assured him, reaching out, only to have Steve slink away from him, which, ouch.  
   “Sorry Buck, didn't mean to wake you, I'm gonna go back to sleep now.” he said, which was a pretty clear sign that he wanted Bucky to clear out, so he did, even though he didn't think Steve would be sleeping again that night.

 

   Steve started to have nightmares regularly, he mostly had them on the days he went to therapy, so Bucky is sure they're getting into some heavy stuff. The worst thing is that Steve will hardly let Bucky help him. He's pushing Bucky away and it hurts.  
   The morning after a particularly bad night had Bucky waiting for Steve to get back from his run, Bucky hadn't gotten back to sleep so he was already on his second cup of coffee. Steve came back in and silently went to to bathroom to shower, not even greeting Bucky as he passed him by.  
   Steve finally came by the kitchen for food, serving himself some of the eggs and bacon that Bucky had made up. He sat down and started eating without saying anything.

   “Did you have a good run?” Bucky tried.  
   “Yep.” came Steve's short reply.

   The two sat in silence for a while as Steve ate, before Bucky realized what this was, this was what Steve did back in the day, he brooded when something was wrong, insisting he didn't need help.  
   “Steve, are you doing OK?” Bucky finally asked, making Steve pause and tense up.  
   “M'fine Buck.” he said, a blatant lie, Steve was so bad at lying.  
   "You know I know you too well to know that's true.”  
   “Then why did you ask?” Steve snapped, setting his fork down loudly.

   Bucky startled from the noise, shocked at the outburst from his friend. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and sighed.

   “I'm sorry Buck, I didn't mean to snap. I'm just- They uh, the doctor, she put me on some medication. It's been making me pretty moody.”  
   “God Steve, did you think you couldn't tell me that?” Bucky asked, reaching across to touch Steve's hand, he was so glad when he didn't flinch away.  
   “You've gotta know it's hard. The forties is still only a few months back for me and there weren't meds like this, they didn't treat mental health this way.”  
   “I know Stevie, but please, you can tell me anything you know. I'm never gonna think differently of you.” Bucky tried, only to get that look from Steve that said he didn't believe him.  
   “I'll be right back.” Bucky said, leaving the table.

   He went to his room and found his weekly pill holder, bringing it out with him and setting on the table in front of Steve. His friend looked at it for a moment before realizing what it was and looking up at Bucky.  
   “I've been here for years now Steve and I'm still on no less than three medications.”  
   “What are, I mean, can I ask what they're for?” Steve mumbled.  
   “Anxiety mostly. Also depression and headaches.”

   Steve looked sad all of a sudden, “You're depressed?”

   Bucky shrugged, “Not so much anymore, but I was.” he answered, not sure why he continued on, “I uh, tried to kill myself twice, once when I had first come back, again a while later after they woke me up for good.”  
   He shuddered at the memories, both dark times in his life that he had been glad hadn't worked, thanks to his metabolism and healing, but he felt Steve should know, like he had said, to help him understand who Bucky was now.  
   And Steve, he was one his feet so quickly, grabbing Bucky and holding him tightly, Steve's whole body shaking.

   “God Bucky. Please don't ever,” he started, unable to finish through a sob.  
   Bucky held Steve back, clutching at him and thanking whoever was in charge that he was here with Steve right now.

   “Never again Steve, haven't thought that way for years I swear it. I just, I wanted you to know, that you're not alone this, I'm not just here to give you a place to live Stevie, I want to help you however I can.”  
   He let himself be held by Steve until he sagged against Bucky, drained.

   “M'sorry, didn't sleep last night.” he mumbled, still holding onto Bucky.  
   “You ain't gotta apologize to me, I know how you feel Stevie. Why don't you go try to nap?” he suggested.

   Steve shook his head, finally stepping back and wiping at his eyes.  
   “I don't wanna be alone right now.” he admitted, looking at the ground.  
   “You don't hafta be pal, go get your ludicrous amount of blankets.” he said, ushering Steve off.

   Bucky sat on his bed while Steve made up a nest of blankets next to him, burrowing himself in like a hamster in woodshavings. Bucky had set up one of his Billy Holiday vinyls, keeping the volume just loud enough it could be heard from the living room and settled in with a book while Steve finally relaxed. He used his metal hand to hold his book and carded his flesh fingers through Steve's hair the way he used to when they were kids, listening for the moment his breathing changed to the slow, soft roll of sleep.

   Steve came to slowly some hours later, blinking his eyes and looking around the room, his hair sticking up this way and that. It reminded Bucky of the war, the way Steve would tumble from his tent, one boot on, the other in hand when they had to go in the middle of the night. He'd blink slowly at the world and scrunch his face, hair askew, the image only lasted for a second though, before he'd start barking orders left and right.  
   He didn't come around quickly now, instead he rubbed his eyes, smacking moisture back into his mouth before yawning and running a hand through his hair, messing it even more. Steve squinted at Bucky, his cheeks pink.  
   “What time is it?”  
   “Almost one,” Bucky answered, marking his place and putting his book down.  
   “You stayed here the whole time?”  
   “Of course I did.”

   Steve continued to blink at Bucky as he set the book down and climbed off the bed.  
   “Are you hungry? We missed Second Breakfast and Elevensies.” Bucky asked, turning to look at Steve, who nodded.


	11. Chapter 11

   The thing about loving Steve was, it was easy, and that was the dangerous part, because Bucky had a hard time figuring out where worried friend should end. He knew clear boundaries, like tender touches, he kept all his shoulder claps sturdy, his knee bumps friendly, like names, daring only to call Steve “Stevie”, when he'd love to call him “doll”, “baby”, “beautiful”. Bucky didn't dare think about kissing Steve, he didn't let his gaze fall past Steve's nose, didn't let himself imagine how soft Steve's lips would be, how he'd open them so pretty for Bucky.  
   Well, he tried not to at least.  
   The thing about loving Steve was that Bucky had done it for as long as he could remember, he had existed for a time where all he could love was the memory of Steve and now that he had him here again, it was hard to tell himself to hold back, when he knew how easily it could all be wrenched away.

 

   The barista was cute. The barista was cute and Bucky hadn't been anywhere where he could just flirt with someone in a while, which was why it slipped out so easily. Greg was his name and he had started it, not in the, “I'm trying to sell you coffee” way either, but in the blatant green light “hey handsome” fashion. The whole exchange Greg had been flashing Bucky eyes and making sly comments about chiseled jaws which was why when he asked Bucky how he wanted his coffee, Bucky said, smooth as butter:  
“Hot and sweet, just like my men.”

   Steve standing right next to him the whole time.

   “So, uh, the barista seemed to like you.” Steve managed, raising an eyebrow at Bucky.  
   They had sat down with their coffee and Bucky had wished a hole would open in the sky and eat him up.

   He had been so careful.

   “He seemed nice,” was all Bucky allowed himself.  
   “You seemed to like him too.”  
   Bucky sighed, before smirking, thinking he could charm his way out of this was probably a mistake, but he had gotten himself out of worse.  
   “I'm a flirt Steve, you know that.”

   Steve hummed and sipped his coffee, giving Bucky a pointed look and saying, “You were a flirt with the ladies, last I saw.”

   Bucky just shrugged and changed the subject.

   By the time they got home Steve was in full on brood mode, he gave Bucky the cold shoulder the whole walk home and as he huffed his way to the couch and fell into it Bucky saw him at five feet and ninety pounds, pouting his way around the apartment when it was cold out and he was out of paper.  
   “What is it Steve?” Bucky asked, setting his feet square and crossing his arms.  
   He had expected a fight to get whatever it was out of Steve, but the blond just shot back up and glared at Bucky.

   “You derailed me earlier.” he huffed, taking Bucky a back because he had never used that word and must have learned it from his therapist.  
   “I didn't want to talk about it.” Bucky shot back, trying to keep calm.  
   “It surprised me Buck. I mean, I knew you were popular with the girls back in the day, a grade A flirt, but it was strictly women and now-”  
   “So I flirted with a man Steve, why is it a big deal?”

   Steve stopped dead, mouth hanging open, because he had no argument, he couldn't get onto Bucky for it being dangerous. He had nothing.  
   “I don't, I was, I've been, concerned. You used to go out all the time and you don't now and I just want to make sure it's not because of me being here. You can go out Buck and bring girls back, I don't care. I can make myself scarce y'know? I just don't know, I thought, maybe you were flirting with him just because you hadn't in a while. Any port in the storm, maybe.” he rambled, blushing and looking at his feet.

   It was adorable, how such a large man could look so remorseful.

   “Steve,” Bucky started, making the blond look at him, “I haven't gone out because I don't want to. I don't a lot anymore. I've barely been with anyone since coming back, it just, doesn't suit my fancy, ya know?”  
   “M'sorry Buck. I didn't mean to go off, it's just, seeing you flirt again was, it made me realize you hadn't and I overworked it in my brain.” he sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face.

   Bucky felt like shit, because here Steve was apologizing for something he didn't need to again, bearing his emotions out like he has been since he got back and Bucky had given him nothing. He was too scared, too sure that coming out to Steve meant confessing to Steve, when it didn't have to be that way.  
   “Please don't apologize Stevie. I ain't mad or nothin'. I don't flirt as much, that's true, but sometimes it's just, too easy not to.”  
   Steve nodded solemnly, “Yeah but, I mean, just don't lead him on you know? We go there a lot and it'd be kinda rude, if you ain't actually interested.” he said, in true Steven Roger's fashion.

   “I won't Stevie. Greg's a nice guy,” he started, only to be railroaded by Steve.  
   “It's fine Buck, I get it, you don't hafta explain.”  
   “No Steve listen, please.” Bucky insisted, making Steve still and stare.  
   “I'm not interested in Greg specifically, he's nice but, ain't my type of guy, no matter what I told him.”

   Steve breathed an “oh”.

   “I didn't know.” he mumbled.  
   “I know you didn't, I didn't tell you. Steve I've, never been into dames, into women. I just played the part so no one asked questions.”  
   He was being gaped at now, plain and simple, Steve was gaping at him, mouth open and everything.

   “So you're-” Steve dropped off, like he couldn't say the word.  
   “I'm gay Steve. Always have been, always will be.”

   Steve snapped his mouth shut, like he finally realized he was being rude, before his whole demeanor changed. He lifted his chin a little, dropping his eyelids down, looking across the room at Bucky, and ran his tongue between both of his lips.  
   “So what is your type then Buck?” he asked, the tone of his voice going straight to Bucky's dick.

   It was Bucky's turn to gap now, his eyes drawing wide as he stared across the room at his friend, the man he loved, who had just very obviously come on to him. He tried to find his voice, tried to think of a come back for that, tried no to flail, but he couldn't pull himself together quick enough.  
   As quickly as Steve had fallen into the part he snapped out of it, swearing under his breath and crossing the room, brushing past Bucky, headed for the door. Luckily, Bucky's brain was able to keep up with what was happening his time and he struck out, grabbing Steve's hand.

   “No, Steve!” he snapped, tugging enough to move Steve to him.  
   It was the first time he had used any force with Steve, who seemed shocked at actually being moved in a direction other then the one he wanted to go.

   “Let go Buck, I'm sorry. I won't again, I don't know why I did that.” he lied, trying to pull away.  
   “Shut up punk,” Bucky said with no venom, bringing his flesh hand to Steve's stupidly small waist, “You shocked me is all, couldn't pull my brain back together quick enough. Struck me speechless is what you did.”  
   He crowded Steve back against a wall, pressing his chest to Steve's and brushing his nose along the man's jaw.

   “How's that feel, making a guy like me who can't shut his trap draw a blank?” he asked, moving back just enough to get a look at Steve.

   They hadn't done anything close to dirty, but Steve already looked fucked out, his pupils blown and lips btiten red as he looked down at Bucky, like he was dreaming.  
   “Buck,” Steve breathed, before swallowing, his adam's apple working along his throat.

   “Ask me again, Steve.”

   It took Steve a second, but he managed again to ask, “So what is your type Buck?” his voice less sultry this time, the words still reaching Bucky's core.  
   “I think you already know the answer to that Stevie,” Bucky returned, smirking.

   Bucky, in the few sexual encounters he had had since coming back, did not get man handled, he was too big and too heavy for any other guy to do little more than try to shove him into a wall. So he was more than dazed when Steve, swift as the wind, flipped their positions and pressed Bucky against the wall, bending until he was crowding over Bucky, lips ghosting over Bucky's when he said:  
   “Tell me now if you don't want this, but God, Buck, I hope you do.”  
   “Never wanted anything more Steve.” he swore, tugging Steve the last little bit before they were kissing.

   It was nothing like Bucky had imagined, he had thought Steve might falter a little, unsure of what to do, but the moment Steve's lips were on Bucky's there was no question of who was in control. Steve covered his body and lips fully, hand coming up to cup his jaw while the other rested heavy against Bucky's right pectoral. The kiss was slow and dirty, lips parting to let tongues slip through and as Steve took Bucky's mouth and completely destroyed him, Bucky knew he could die in this moment and be content. They parted slightly, just enough to catch their breath, but still be breathing in each other, Bucky's heart was working over time as his flesh hand released it's grip on the back of Steve's head, his metal one planted firmly on Steve hip, not daring to move it.

   “I want this one too.” Steve said, sliding his hand down Bucky's metal arm to grab his hand, moving it so he could bring it to his own lips and kiss each digit. “All of you Buck, I want every last inch of you.”  
   Bucky had never in his life been so turned on as he was in that moment, watching Steve press his lips to Bucky's metal palm.  
   “Stevie, fuck.” he breathed, the words punched out of him.

   Steve pressed in close again, Bucky's metal hand still in his own and traced Bucky's ear with his lips, sighing lightly against the shell of it.

   “God Buck, you're so beautiful. You know that? Always have been, since I can remember all I could think about was how fuckin' beautiful you were.”  
Bucky could only manage a slight whimper, gripping Steve's shoulder with his free hand as he tried to keep himself upright.

   “Living in that apartment with you was torture Buck. I had to see you every day, wanting you so much, but I couldn't have you.”  
   “You coulda Steve, would have sunk to my knees if you'd told me to,” Bucky finally said, finding his voice.  
   “And now Buck?” Steve challenged.  
   “Ain't nothing's changed.” he breathed, groaning when Steve took the soft bottom of Bucky's ear into his mouth.

   “Tell me Buck, you hard right now?” Steve asked, low and sultry in a way Bucky never thought Steve could.  
   “God yes Stevie, baby, please, need you.” he whined, trying not to panic when the pet name slipped past his barrier.  
   “Fuckin' Jesus Buck, listen to you. Beggin' so pretty just for me, huh?”

   “You're gonna be the death of me Stevie.” Bucky laughed, only to groan when Steve released his hand and pressed their denim clad cocks together, grinding against the smaller man.  
   He whimpered as Steve dipped his head to get at Bucky's neck again, continuing with his slow grind the whole time. Steve seemed to know what he was doing as his hands wandered across Bucky's chest, slipping down to his waist to brush under his shirt.  
   Bucky hissed Steve's name, causing the other man to pull back, worry wrought in his features.

   “Did I do something wrong? I don't, I mean, I've never done this before.” Steve mumbled, face turning red.  
   “Coulda fooled me Steve,” Bucky chuckled, bringing his metal hand up to frame Steve jaw, “You know we don't have to do anything, we don't have to rush. I've loved you for seventy odd years Steve, that's not gonna change in the next few months.”

   Steve's breath in was audible, tears plain in his eyes, close as they were.  
   “Say it again, please.” Steve breathed.  
   “I love you Steve. I've loved you since I watched you punch Thomas Baker square in his fat nose.”

   Steve laughed, stooping to kiss Bucky's lips, it was slow and brought life back into his flagging dick; Bucky tried not to whimper when Steve pulled away.  
   “If you wanna take things slow we can, but I've been waiting to do this for a long time and if it's all the same to you, I'm don't waiting. In case you hadn't figured it out, I'm pretty in love with you too.”

   Bucky smiled, grinning up at the beautiful man above him, unable to grasp that the two of them had been dancing around each other for years.  
"I think,” Bucky started, "since we couldn't figure our shit out earlier, the two of us have years to make up for and I see no point in wasting our time waiting anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends, I am terrible at writing smut, so please, I apologize.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you heathens go. 
> 
>  
> 
> Don't say I didn't warn you though...

   Sundays were Bucky's favorite day, because Steve didn't run on Sundays, which meant Bucky was usually up before he was. The apartment was warm, the heat needed now as the tendrils of winter grasped New York as it fell into December. They'd be having their first Christmas back together, but Bucky was more concerned about the present morning than another weeks away.  
   Steve was a picture beside him, one large arm thrown above his head, fingers slack, letting Bucky know he was actually still asleep and not just pretending. His hair was a dreadful mess and he was sleeping with his mouth open wide. The fact that Steve was not a graceful sleeper had not changed, but that didn't mean Bucky thought he was anything less than gorgeous.  
   Carefully, because Steve liked to pick and choose when he was a light sleeper, Bucky untangled himself from Steve's other arm. He crept from the bedroom into the bathroom and found the bottle of lube he had stashed there the other night. Bucky had been planning this for a few days now, so his game plan was clear in his head.  
Bucky had to be quiet as he prepped himself, one foot thrown up onto the bathroom sink so he could reach back and slick himself, slowly working himself up to three fingers, so he was loose enough. He wanted nothing more than to have Steve do this for him, but he had decided to step up his game after his “good morning blowjob” had gone over so well.

   If, two years ago, someone had told Bucky that he would be using the stealth skills he'd been programmed to remember in order to sneak into his and Steve's bedroom, cooling lube sliding down his thighs, he might have died laughing. Now though, it was an all too serious matter, because he could not wake Steve.  
   It was his sole mission.

   He had held his breath as he eased the covers off of Steve, afraid the cooler room might wake his boyfriend (which he never got tired of thinking, saying). Steve, God bless him, had already taken care of what could have been the riskiest part, at least the serum hadn't gotten rid of morning wood. Bucky knelled above Steve, knees on either side of his trim waist and smirked, because the punk was still sound asleep. Testing himself one last time with a couple of fingers, Bucky deemed himself ready and took a hold of Steve's cock. It was heavy in his hand and he wanted to groan at the feel of it, like he did every time he got a hold of what should rightfully be a national monument.  
Steve barely stirred as Bucky looked back, adjusting himself slightly so that he could sink himself down onto Steve. He bit back a whine, surprised Steve hadn't woken yet, and let himself get used to the thickness of the dick inside of him. Bucky was glad he was never quiet used to having Steve inside of him, it made each time seem like the first (which had been nothing short of amazing). Once he was comfortable, Bucky tried a small roll of his hips, Steve's eyebrows furrowed, the hand thrown above his head twitching.

   He still didn't wake though.

   Bucky rolled his eyes and set his metal hand on Steve's chest, allowing him the leverage for a deeper roll. Steve's cock prodded at his prostate, making Bucky cry slightly.  
   That seemed to do it.

   Steve's eyes popped open, his mouth still hanging agape as he stared up at Bucky, who just smirked with another roll of his hips. The movement punched a groan out of Steve, who moved to grip Bucky's hips, planting his feet so he could snap his own hips up to meet Bucky.  
   “Morning,” Bucky breathed, peering down at Steve.  
   “First the blow-job, now this?” Steve asked, holding Bucky still so he could thrust up into him again.

   The force had Steve cock jutting against that blessed spot inside Bucky again, making him cry out.

   “Gotta keep my best guy happy.” Bucky tried, barely able to get the words out.  
   “Well you sure know how to keep a man on his toes.” Steve's quipped back, moving one hand so he could pull Bucky down to kiss him.

   It was a little sour and a lot perfect.  
   Steve kept Bucky tucked against him, one hand on the back of his neck while the other gravitated to the small of Bucky's back. Bucky held himself up off Steve enough that the larger man had room to fuck up into him, which he did, with vigor.  
   The sound of skin against skin was almost vulgar in the still of the morning as Steve thrust up into Bucky, holding him with more force than he would have ever been able to before now. He pressed down on the small of Bucky's back until the angle was just right and Bucky cried out again, resting his forehead against Steve's chest.

   “You good baby?” Steve asked, not faltering with his movements.  
   “So good Stevie,” Bucky whined, finding one of Steve's pebbled nipples with his tongue.

  Steve groaned before moving the hand on Bucky's neck to thread through his hair and pull with just enough force to take Bucky's face away from Steve's chest. Bucky moaned and tried to drop himself back to meet one of Steve's upward thrusts, only to be stilled. His own dick was trapped between the two of them with not quite enough friction to do anything useful.  
  “Tell me what you want.” Steve ordered, lifting his head so he could mouth at Bucky's neck.  
  “Wanna come, doll, please.”

   Steve hummed against his throat, his hips still working at the same angle that kept his cock striking against Bucky's prostate.  
   “What did you think was gonna happen when you sat on my dick this morning sweetheart, did you think I was just lie here?”  
   “I was hopin' maybe you would,” Bucky laughed, only to have it dissolve into a moan.  
   “No you weren't, you love it like this Buck, admit it.” Steve growled.

   And oh, did Bucky ever.

   “Yeah baby, fuck, you know I do. Can't deny you Stevie, I love havin' you fuck me.”  
   “I know you do Buck and I got ya. Gonna make you come just like this, I know you can do it.”

   Bucky whined, shaking his head as Steve relentlessly pounded against his prostate.  
   “Yes you can, I got you baby. You did so good, opening yourself up just for me, did you think about me while you fingered yourself open? Huh? Tell me.”

   The metal hand was tearing through their sheets by this point, Bucky nodded as much as he could with his hair still in Steve's hand.  
   “Wanted your fingers baby, but I had a mission.”

   “And you did so good Buck, got that pretty hole nice and slick. Now come on baby, I want you to come for me love.”  
   Steve punctuated his words with a staccato of short thrusts, still deep enough to continue against Bucky's prostate. Bucky couldn't hold back anymore, there was nothing but the soft brush of skin against his own dick, but between Steve's words and his fucking against Bucky so harshly he knew he would be able to come.  
   It was only a short few seconds as the pleasure mounted in the base of Bucky's spine before he was spilling hot across Steve's stomach. Steve had let go of his hair, so he dropped his forehead back to his boyfriend's chest, mouth open, but no sound coming out and his vision blurred for a moment. He was all but limp against Steve, who fucked up into Bucky only a handful more before Bucky could feel Steve come inside of him, the sensation milking a whimper from him.  
   They stayed like that for a moment or two, Steve gradually going flaccid inside of Bucky, only to pull out shortly after. Bucky wrinkled his nose as the feeling of Steve's come leaking out of him, but Steve was blissfully unaware under him. Steve started to rub Bucky's back as he laid on top of the larger man, the two slowly catching their breaths.

   “That was probably the best wake up call I've ever had,” Steve joked, kissing the top of Bucky's head.  
   “Yeah well, don't expect me to top it anytime soon.” Bucky mumbled, relishing in Steve's hands along his spine.  
   “Don't worry Buck, I'm perfectly happy just waking up curled around you.” Steve said quietly.

   Bucky wanted to call him a sap but he also didn't want to ruin the moment.

   “Let's get you into the shower.” Steve suggested some few minutes later, nudging Bucky to roll off of him.

   Steve supported him as they padded to the bathroom, he started the shower, waiting for it to get warm before helping Bucky in first. They kissed languidly under the hot water and Bucky couldn't help but think that the two of them would never be cold again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throw those comments my way friends.  
> Also Tumblr!  
> @deepspaceprincess
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> (I promise I haven't forgotten about my other stuff, I just. Cannot. Write. Them. It's a weird thing.)

**Author's Note:**

> Who doesn't love comments?  
> Also, come yell at me on Tumblr @ deepspaceprincess


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